Figuring out what I wanna be when I grow up.
Oop..I AM grown up...


Saturday, May 14, 2011

Things That Have Been Lost, Things That Are Found

Recently, in a plastic bin in the basement, I found a cd I'd almost completely given up on.  I found two cd's actually.  One was wedged in among the forgotten, and one had been put away in the wrong cd case. 

So, today was the day for some frenetic dancing, and very loud music, which seemed to signal the end of the funk I'd been in for a long while.  The cd from the wrong case had been missing so long, I didn't know what song would come next, and had really forgotten the nuances, and a lot of the lyrics I'd really liked. 

Life is strange.

Some things get lost for a while.  Some things get lost for good.  Mothers Days come and go with no mother to be found.  Not even a trace of her.  No magical signs, no omens, no portent--even the symbolic tulips I planted didn't open that day. 

I felt lost again, but then found my footing on a very long walk.  Walk until your feet are sore, and your brain is empty, I like to think.  Little boys forget their engulfing, autistic anxieties, and their old soul complexities and proclivities, and remember they are little boys, and that it's okay to hug the big, stuffed elephant.  After all, it's squishy, and very soft, and has a smiling face, and nobody has told you yet that it will never really talk. 

Nine years get lost in a suburban shuffle, where people pretend there's nobody beside them pushing a child on the swing, and you can feel completely alone in gridlock during rush hour.  And then life swings around full circle to a time when I'm on the verge of having my sister as my neighbour.  My neighbour, for crying out loud. 

And all the while, I keep finding dimes. Not often, but regularly. Dimes beside my bed.  Dimes in my daughter's room.  After my grandmother died, when I was packing to move from the big city to come home, I found dimes all over that house.  Not nickels.  Not quarters.  Not pennies even.  Dimes.  But what does that mean? 

Time passes.  Grief lessens.  The burden of raising children abates, and we find a bit of ourselves again--whoever that self was.  And sometimes we dance, round and around the room, because we found that cd that had been lost for so long. 


13 comments:

  1. wow, what amazing writing. I really like the middle paragraphs. I read this 3 times.

    Hi, fellow writer.

    Keane fit the mood perfectly.

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  3. Nicely rendered.

    Nothing is ever really lost, it always remains in subconscious simmering looking to complete the stew.

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  4. it always feels good to find a song or album that reminds us of happy times and good memories.
    i watched a movie tonight called "fly away" about a 13 yr old girl who's autistic and it made me cry. and in a couple parts it made me think of you too. the things we moms have to deal with on an on-going basis & how easy it is to feel alone in it all.
    i'm so glad you're about to have your sister for a neighbor! yay for nearby family!

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  5. btw you get a mention and an award here:

    http://lance-myblogcanbeatupyourblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-blog-can-beat-up-your-blog-birthday.html

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  6. Love this.

    You're a great writer.

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  7. Thanks Lance, and hello to you as well, fellow writer.

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  8. Oh yes, Sherilin, you've hit the nail on the head. Alone in it all, thanks to all this, which really isn't true, but that's how it feels.

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  9. Oh no. Thank you Lance. Did any of the other peeps on my friend list here mention how bad I am with a) getting to my awards, and b) following through on what's required of me? That being said, just be patient. I get round to everything in time.

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  10. Thankyou Ms. Suniverse. I also have a sore throat, which is apropos of nothing, except that's why my replies are short and not at all snappy.

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  11. Well, well. New fans all the time. Write that (censored) book, already!!!

    Excellent post, btw. The song is happy and haunting. The other week, I dusted off the CD by Pure. Remember those guys? Man, all that music just goes whizzing on by, just like our youth. In my humble opinion, the guy in the song was asking all the right questions, but not asking the right subject. Makes sense?

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  12. Yeah Matt, write it already is RIGHT. It will make sense when I have time to ponder it, and someone small isn't hovering over my shoulder waiting for her turn on the computer :(

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